Brain foggy, wipers blunt
Sleep is vibrantly alive, kicking
me into action, 24/7, no time to stop

Get up, get moving

Every second is too heavy,
and sleep is nasty

poking me with a stick

propping my eyelids open
with grit
and determination
Mustn’t be late

for what?

Sleep eats my memories
tossing me aside
with the peelings

the shards

wrapped in old news
paper, thin
and hungry
Sleep now demented
forces me down

with sudden aggression
bangs my head forward to the ground
which falls up to meet me

and pins me down
heavily, laughing
and totally in control

I do not surrender

I wait for sleep
The cat meows outside the door

in surreal waltz time

as sleep finally slumbers

and I fall…

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1 Comment

  1. michaellincolncravey

     /  Thursday, 9 January 2014 at 3:24 pm

    Reblogged this on Spontaneous Creativity.


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